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    Summary

    It’s late, Bucky isn’t sure how late, just that’s somewhere around Dark-as-Fuck O’Clock, and it feels like he’d only barely gotten to sleep. And now he’s awake, courtesy of the lumbering mook who somehow always manages to forget he’s not a 90 pound wisp of a thing anymore this time of night. The mattress dips, springs twanging, as it adjusts to Stevie’s weight. 

    “Hey babydoll,” Steve’s voice is honey-smooth as he slides between the sheets to snuggle up behind him, those pretty pink lips pressing a soft kiss behind Bucky’s ear, and suddenly Bucky ain’t quite so grumpy as he was a second ago. Bucky lets out a happy little grunt, shifting his head a bit on the pillow to offer up more of his neck to Steve’s mouth, keeping his eyes screwed shut like a brat just because he can, because after all, Steve did just wake him up. He’s entitled to stay a little grumpy at that, ain’t he? 

    --

    Steve gets home late and wakes Bucky up. Sexytimes ensue. That's it, that's the fic.

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